


And My Soul Will Seek You Out

by Snowbazzz_lyf



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: A happy ending because I say so, Based on the myth of Apollo and Hyacinthus, Baz is Hyacinthus, Fluff and Angst, It's kinda bittersweet, Kind of Soulmate AU, Light Sexual Content, M/M, POV Simon/Apollo, Simon is Apollo, Stick through it, You will be happy, but more sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-09-07 01:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20300968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowbazzz_lyf/pseuds/Snowbazzz_lyf
Summary: “You were the sun, and I was crashing into you.”Not entirely metaphorical, because Simon once had been the sun. A fic where Simon was once Apollo and Baz, his lover Hyacinthus but the myth doesn't end where it's supposed to.





	1. PART ONE

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many feelings for Apollo and Hyacinthus. Sadness is a prominent one. But I hate the ending, everyone does, so I am here to change it a little.

When night falls, I like to go somewhere where there is generally no one, mortal or immortal, just the soft whispering of flowers and the quiet sound of the river or of sea, the silver moonlight bathing me in it. The moon, my sister Artemis.

I sometimes sit on the rocks, sometimes on the grass, sometimes on the sand, and play my lyre and sing. It's calming. It's something I am good at, apart from archery and healing. I like to sing alone, making new melodies, trying out new songs.

I think that I am in Sparta right now, near river Eurotas. Sitting down on a rock, I take my instrument in my hands. It's old, the very same one I had got from Hermes, but it's beautiful and befitting a god. Befitting _me_.

As my fingers strum through the strings, the sweet tunes melding with the pleasent breeze, I start singing a new song I have just thought of, closing my eyes and losing myself in it.

_Oh my love, make haste be quiet_  
_For the night is short and the separation too long_  
_Let me hold you in my arms, my love_  
_Let me worship your body with my lips_  
_The love that runs in me for you, let me give it all to you_  
_Now I must go for I can't stay_  
_And alas, love, it's the last time we meet_  
_But don't you weep, my love, my life_  
_This is not my only life_  
_In every world and in every life, I will seek you out for my soul belongs to you _  
_And though death may claim my body, it won't claim my soul_  
_And I will seek you out, every time, every time_

I finish the song, still strumming the lyre. It's a nice song, I think, but something I can't feel. I have never fallen in love, actually and properly, the kind of love that feels like it is never going to fade away, the kind of love this song is about. And I am also _immortal_, I can't have many lives; I only have this one which will never end. Perhaps someone will understand it, feel it. Maybe someday, I will too. But right now, it's only a song for me.

“That was wonderful.”

I startle and look up. There is a handsome youth sitting in front of me, his drawn close to his chest, his chin placed on them., I had got so lost in singing. I didn't even realise someone had creeped up on me to hear me play this song. That happens sometimes.

His eyes are dark and serious, lips stretched in a smile, hair raven black and braided and skin a lovely shade of olive. He is muscular and lean, wearing a fine chiton and I can clearly see that he is someone important.

I have encountered attractive mortals before, I have had lovers. But never, in my entire life, have I ever met someone as beautiful as him, mortal or not. He is all perfection, like someone sat down and patiently carved him out like a statue, every detail immaculate. But unlike a statue, he is not cold or dead. He is alive, so _alive_.

“Who are you?” I ask.

He raises his exquisite eyebrows at me, clearly surprised.

“Hyacinthus.” He says, an eyebrow still raised, looking a little smug, a little annoyed and sounding haughty. “The prince of Sparta.”

Oh. That's why he looked surprised. I suppose everyone here knows him, falls over themself to kiss his feet. Right now, I am disguised as a mortal. I do that sometimes, when I am feeling tired of being a god and dealing with all the shit people get themselves in. When I become a man and no one pays me any attention. Perhaps, my appearance is what makes him think that I would know him.

He is quiet for a minute as he studies my face, then asks, “Who are you?”

“I am Apollo.”

Instead of looking surprised or honoured or amazed, he _rolls his eyes_, scoffing.

“Right, and I am Zeus. Tell me, my dear friend, did you have too much wine?”

I feel stunned. Never. _Never_ in my entire life, anyone has talked to me like this. I should be feeling angry yet, strangely, I am not. I feel amused.

I stand up and close my eyes and I can feel my disguise melting away, till I can feel the power I have inside me, reverberating in my chest and around me.

When I open my eyes again, he is looking stunned, mouth hanging open and I smirk at him. That makes him snap out of his trance and suddenly, he is kneeling in front of me, head bowed, his confidence gone.

“Forgive me, Lord Apollo, for not recognising you.” He says, head still bowed humbly. I deeply dislike the abrupt change in his manner and the fact that I am the reason behind it, even though that had been my goal when I had let my disguise slip away. I rather liked his true and former self.

“It's alright, you couldn't have. And please stop kneeling, I don't like you doing that.” He looks up at me, surprised and I continue speaking. “Please do stop it, and come, sit here.” He hesitates and looks like he is fearing for his life. I am not going to kill him, goodness, no. It would be a shame to kill him.

“Please, come.” I insist again.

He finally nods, looking a little flustered as well as sheepish, and then sits down next to me. I can feel that he is uncomfortable, so I just pick up my lyre and start playing again, not singing anything, but humming under my breath. Perhaps, it will help him settle down and feel more comfortable.

And it does. Bit by bit, I feel him ease out of his tension and then, even lean slightly towards me as he watches me play, singing a song under his breath. I can't catch the words, but I like hearing him hum.

After what feels like hours, I stop playing and by now, he has become completely comfortable. He smiles at me when I look at him, and I can't help the grin on my face either.

“Do you come here often?” He asks me, and I nod, even though it is a complete lie. I haven't been here for the past five hundred years, I think.

“I do too, almost every day.” He says. “I wonder why I never encountered you before.”

“It doesn't matter.” I say, shrugging, hoping he doesn't catch my lie.

“Would you like to meet me again?” I ask then realise that he will obviously say yes. Nobody ever refuses a god anything, nobody insults them. Unless they can't recognise them, or have a death wish, of course.

“If you wish me too, then I certainly will.”  
Like I had said, I knew he won't say no.

“I want you to meet me again not because I wish so, but because you would like to. So, would you like to come here again, tomorrow, meet me again?”

He looks at me with the same quiet eyes he was when I had stopped singing for the first time. Then he nods.

“I will. I would like to meet you again. I would very much like that.”

“Wonderful.”

There is silence and then he sighs and smiles slowly. I really think he looks incredible when he does that.

“Allow me to take my leave, Lord Apollo.” He says.

“You can just call me Apollo, I don't mind.”

I can see the surprise on his face, but then he nods, and I watch him get up and go but two steps later, he turns towards me and says, “Oh, and I would like it if you call me Baz.”

“Alright then, Baz.” I say, plucking the strings of my lyre and waving at him. “I will see you tomorrow.”

He waves back at me before turning and walking away and I start singing the song again.

* * *

After that, we are meeting every day, every night. We don't even ask each other if the other would be there, we know that he would be. It had been a bit awkward at first and Baz was nervous around me, but he gradually grew more comfortable and he has even started to poke fun at me, which I actually rather like.

Sometimes when I reach before he does, I start playing my lyre and singing, my eyes closed. When I open them again, he is there and listening, with his eyes squeezed shut, a small smile dancing on his lips. Then he opens them and he appears to be genuinely glad to see me and there is always a light, tight feeling in my chest when he looks at me like that.

After that, we do whatever we want to. We wrestle sometimes, sometimes we run, sometimes we swim and quite often, we scale the steep and rough mountains of Sparta and hunt a lot. Baz is quite atheletic. For a mortal, he is very fit and it's a pleasure to watch him when he moves, all grace and beauty, ebony black hair flying in the wind, limbs long and slender.

Right now, however, we are practicing archery. I love this the most and it's not just because I am the god of archery.

Baz is holding his bow all wrong, his posture is pathetic, despite the fact I correct it everytime we practice archery. He is not foolish, he simply does this because he likes it. He likes to tease me. I can see that he is pretending to look innocent, but his mischevious eyes are giving everything away.

“Not like that.” I say and get up from where I had been sitting. He gives me a smile, his eyes crinkling slightly, and my stomach flips. Steadying myself, I hold each of his arms with my own ones, bending his elbow and straightening his other arm. His back is pressed against my chest and this whole situation is so intimate, which is exactly why he keeps doing it and I never call him out. I lower my arms but I don't step back and whisper, “Go on now, release the arrow.”

He shivers slightly and leans against me just a bit more before he releases the arrow.

“Bullseye.” he says, still not moving. There is absolutely no need for us to stand so close now but I know we both are reluctant to move.

“Bullseye, indeed.”

He remains quiet for a moment before he whispers, “Thanks, Simon.”

I frown and step back, like I have been pushed away. _Who_ is Simon? And why am I feeling so hurt? It's not like he is my lover, no matter how badly I want it to be so.

“Simon? Who is Simon?”

He has stiffened, like he got caught doing something wrong, and when he turns to look at me, he looks bashful, face red, eyes downcast.

“I- I like to give the people I like a name of my own and I named you Simon.” He hangs his head, his hands clutching the bow so tightly, his knuckles have turned white. “Forgive me, for my impertinence, Lord Apol-”

“No, don't say that.” I cut him off hastily. “I rather like the name.”

“You do?” Surprised.

“Yes, yes I do. Call me Simon, from now on.”

“If you say so... Simon.”

The way he says it, it makes me feel so... strange. But in a good way. It makes me feel like my name alone means something to him, that each syllable and sound is treasured.

I am a god, mortals rever me, worship me, they fall over themselves at my feet. They say they love me but I think they are only afraid of me. Baz isn't. Perhaps that is why I like him so much. He isn't afraid of me, he likes me for who I am, god or not.

* * *

“What do you want to do today?”

We have been meeting everyday and every night for almost six months now and my yearning for him is becoming almost unbearable now. I can take him anytime I want to, I am a god, after all, but I would rather like it if he wants me with the same desire I have for him.

Baz shrugs.

“Let's run.”

“Run? Just run?”

“Yes. Don't you want to?”

“No. I mean- yeah, it's fine. But till where? How long do we run?”

“As long as we want to.”

He takes off without another word, his sandals striking the earth, hard and fast. I run after him, and though it does not take me long to catch up, I decide to just run behind him for a while. I like to see how his braided locks fly while he runs.

“So we are just running?” I call after him and he turns his head at me and nods, grinning at me with a flushed face.

“You are quite strange.” I say, without thinking twice, with an amused smile.

He stops abruptly and I narrowly avoid a collision. When he turns towards me, one of his perfectly carved eyebrows is raised and he is smirking.

“I am, aren't I? Yet, I like it because, Simon, you see, it's not the ordinary which catches one's eye, it's strangeness.”

I blink twice and he winks at me before he starts again. I agree with him. Baz is anything but ordinary and he most certainly has caught my eye.

* * *

“Sing a song, Simon.”

I smile to myself and give Baz a fond look. I love this. I love playing my lyre and singing songs. But it becomes even more pleasurable for me when Baz is here to witness it. I like it when I mesmerize him, when he is happy because of me.

I have thought of a song for the past few days but I am not sure if I should sing it. While Baz and I have been dancing around each other for months, I don't know if he really wants me. I want him, I know I do.

Perhaps, I should just sing it.

_I have seen the stars up close and I have seen the moon_  
_I have seen the flowers and I have seen the trees_  
_I have seen maidens, youthful, fair and lovely_  
_I have seen young men, strong and handsome_  
_The world claims them to be charming and a sight to behold_  
_But, my beloved, I laugh at their foolishness_  
_Because clearly, they haven't ever seen you._

Baz sits enthralled as I finish the song, face flushed. I look at him and say, “This song is for you.”

His eyes widen as he looks at the lyre and then at me, before he smiles softly and places his left hand gently, hesitatingly, over mine. I turn mine so that I am holding his now, his slender fingers interwined with mine.

“Simon... That was a beautiful song. Thank you.”

He looks like he wants to do something, but he doesn't know if he should. I know because that's how I have been feeling for the past year. I want to kiss him, but I don't know if I should.

Maybe, I should. If he doesn't want me, then I will leave him alone and go away. Knowing that my feelings aren't requited would be better than this constant suspense.

So I do. I lean forward and kiss him, my other hand cradling his neck, lips gentle against his.

He melts almost instantly under my touch, and his lips part. They are so soft, it feels like I am kissing flowers, and they are sweet, like honey.

Apart from the utter joy I am feeling at finally kissing him, it feels like a breath of air, like I had been unable to breathe for the past few months and now suddenly, I can. I feel giddy, drunk.

He is the one who breaks the kiss and when he leans back, his face is crimson and he is smiling shyly, an expression which is rare on his face and suits him beautifully.

I am in love with him, so I kiss him again.

* * *

We are just lying lazily in his private gardens when I prop myself up on my elbows and lean over him. I press my lips to his forehead once and he exhales, a content sound, his eyes shut. I think it has been an year since I first kissed him and it all still feels so new. I can't ever get used to him, simply because he will never cease to amaze me.

“Do you know you are looking really beautiful today?” I ask, playing with his hair. He smirks and opens one of his eyes.

“When do I not look beautiful?”

“Good question.” I laugh and then kiss him.  
He laughs with me and then his expression gradually grows sombre. He sits up and gives me a long look, before he sighs, and I can see slight creases of tension on his face.

“Is everything fine?” I ask, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No.” He says bluntly, giving me a pained expression. “Simon, you keep telling me that I am beautiful and it's flattering, it makes me happy but it also makes me wonder. Is that why you love me? For my _beauty_?”

I open my mouth to protest but he doesn't pay any attention to me and keeps on speaking.

“If that is so, then I know that you won't love me when I grow old, because I am a mortal. I can't stay young forever like you. One day, I will grow old, I will lose my beauty, and then, will you stop loving me?”

He grows quiet and I have been stunned into silence. When he starts speaking again, his voice is low.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I know you sayt so because you are you and you can't compliment anyone intelligently unless you are singing-” I roll my eyes and he smirks before he grows serious again. “I just- I just don't want you to break my heart.”

“I won't.” I say, and I squeeze his shoulder. “Baz, I love you but it's not just your beauty. It's you. The quality which I admire the most about you are your wits and your level headedness. I didn't fall in love with your body, I fell in love with you. Don't you see that? If you want me to, I will be with you for the rest of your life, I won't leave you. Ever.”

It's true. Though, I would rather like it if I will take him as my consort and keep him with me forever. But he doesn't need to know that right now.

I kiss his neck and shoulders and I can see him relaxing.

“I love you, I really really do.” I whisper in his ear.

“I know.” He murmurs softly. “I am sorry for-”

“Don't be. It's better that we got it out of the way.”

“Mhmm.” He hums and turns towards me, looping his hands around my neck and kissing me deeply.

“I love you too, Simon.”

* * *

No one kisses as well as Hyacinthus, the prince of Sparta, does.

I have pinned him against the walls of his chambers and he is kissing me ravenously, hands roaming over my bare body, exploring every part of it. He is naked too, his clothes having been discarded a long time back, and right now, I can't keep my hands off him, not that I could before.

He is panting slightly as I pull away and trail my kisses downwards, from his lips to his jaws to his chest and he moans, a breathy sound, heavy with desire.

I want him. I want him so badly, I think I am going to go mad. I want to offer him all that my body can, give him pleasure. I want Baz to utter my name, call it out, like no one does. I want to make love to him. I have done it before, several times, and I want to do it again with him. Only him.

I draw back and he looks at me with hooded eyes, pupils blown wide, his hair, for once, is wrecked but he still looks wickedly handsome.

“Take me.” He says huskily, hands clutching fistfuls of my hair. “Take me right now, Simon.”

I don't have to be told twice and now I'm pushing him down on his bed, crawling on top of him, holding him down.

The way he looks right now, it makes my heart swell. This beautiful creature, with his snarky remarks, smart mouth and a heart of gold is all mine.

I kiss his neck, sucking and licking on the soft skin and he whimpers and writhes under my touch, his hot breath fanning my neck and fingers digging in my shoulders.

_Mine_, I think. He is mine and I love him so much.

* * *

We are practicing throwing discus today.

The day is clear and bright and we want to make the most of it. He chases the discus everytime I throw it and catches it with the strength and agility he possesses. Show off.

“Alright, Baz.” I say, waving the discus over my head. “I am throwing it again.”

He nods and I throw the discus with all my strength and he runs after it laughing. Any moment now, he is going to catch it and return it to me.

Except he stumbles.

I watch it happen slowly, that momentary stumble, him misjudging the speed and proximity of the discus, and it falling on the ground before bouncing back up and hitting him on his head and blood gushing out like a fountain of water.

I am running forward even before I realise it, a scream of horror tearing through my throat. No. No. _No_.

I reach him before he falls, catching him in my arms and someone is sobbing and it takes me a moment to realise that it's me. He is barely concious, eyes fluttering, blood still rushing out of his head, staining his and my body with it.

“It's _fine_.” I whisper harshly. “Baz, listen to me. It's fine. I can heal you, you will be up any second.”

He doesn't respond, his head lolling uselessly to one side.

I work up on my powers, using every spell, every charm I can think of on him. Something will work, I know it will.

But it isn't. Nothing is working. Nothing. No. I am the god of healing, I am the only one who can help him.

“Please, Baz. Don't leave me, I don't want you to go. I want you with me, forever.” I am weeping as I cradle him close to me, his blood trickling down my arms and chest. I am trying, I am trying so hard to heal him, I am using all of my powers. His breaths are barely there.

But my powers aren't working and Baz wouldn't wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about that for a cliff hanger, huh?


	2. PART TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gods are fading...  
+Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first off, don't run away if you think the fic has got depressing. I swear it has a good ending! Stick through it.

I am fading.

My fingers, my chest, my legs, my face, my hair, my eyes. They are all translucent. And I am getting more and more faint with each passing day. I feel tired everyday, every second. It's a struggle to open my eyes, to move, to breathe. I'm a god, but I don't feel like one. I feel so powerless, so weak, so completely pathetic. This must be how going out feels like. This must be how death feels like.

That's it. I'm dying.

This thing started nearly a century ago, when many minor gods and goddesses started disappearing without a trace and were found in Hades' realm. We did not bother about it at first, we thought there were too many deities already to start with. We didn't even notice that we had started getting weaker, because the difference was hardly noticeable. It was only when Hestia disappeared, did we start panicking that next, it would be us.

We have become so weak by now, that not even a miracle can save us. Dionysus has already disappeared. Zeus is losing his hair over his gradually depleting powers. He had started a probe on the reason behind these disappearances and when we got to know it, we all were shocked.

The mortals no longer believe in us.

I had always thought that my immortality was because of my power, my strength. But no, all along it had been the _belief_ the mortals had in us. And now that they no longer do, we are dying. Withering away. They think we are just fables now, old stories. Myths. That I never actually used to play my lyre or drive my chariot across the skies. That Zeus wasn't the one who caused thunder and lightening. That the earth didn't shake because of Poseidon.

They all are dying. _I_ am dying.

The only god who is untouched is Hades. Because people still believe in death. He is as strong as ever. And in turn, he has made sure that his wife Persephone lives too. Those two are the only ones untouched by this calamity.

_Calamity_... I don't think it's a calamity.

In all honesty, I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of dying. 

Because after my death, I'd be able to see him again. I'd be able to meet _Baz_ again.

When he had died in my arms, I had wept, I had cursed this wretched world. I had wished for my own death and I had thought I would never be able to meet him again, that I had lost him forever. Ages have passed since I last saw him, since I last held him, since I last kissed him but now it's only a matter of time before I'd be able to do it again.

Right now, I am lying at the same place where I had met him for the first time and the very same place where I had lost him too.

Because here, he is everywhere. He is in the hyacinths that grow, he is in the sweet wind that caresses my face, he is in the roaring river nearby, he is in the trees around me. He is everywhere. 

I hold my lyre close to my chest and slowly, I start to sing. My voice is low, I can't raise it higher without coughing. And the movements of fingers are weak, it exhausts me to just sing. This used to be effortless once. _Soon_, I think. Perhaps, I wouldn't be able to see tomorrow. I am glad.

_I have waited too long my love_  
_But I'm meeting you again_  
_And perhaps the pain and the longing I felt_  
_It has faded away_  
_ Now that I've seen you again_  
_Your touch is soothing_  
_And your words are tender_  
_And the wounds that were festering_  
_Are now healing_  
_Now that I've seen you again_

I lie down on the grass when I feel that I can't keep sitting up due to exhaustion. It's cool and calm and when I close my eyes, it feels that wind is almost murmuring my name softly, playing with my hair. Like Baz did.

Baz.

I can see him when I close my eyes. He looks ethereal. Beautiful. He makes my heart swell with unparalleled joy and love. My Baz.

_Soon_, I think again.

* * *

When I open my eyes, I am greeted with nothingness. All around me, it's pitch black. I can't make out anything, not even my own hands. And I hate to admit it, but the darkness is quite intimidating. I am- was- the sun god. It's reasonable if I don't like the dark.

“Lord Apollo?”

I turn towards the person who spoke my name (I hope I turned in the right direction. I really can't see anything).

“Yes?”

The place gets illuminated suddenly and I blink repeatedly, shielding my eyes for a moment, thinking that this never used to happen before. After feeling confused for a moment, my gaze falls on the person who called me.

Thanatos.

If he is here, standing in front of me, then that must mean that I am-

“Welcome, my Lord.” Thanatos says with a far from pleasent smile. “Welcome to Underworld. I hope you know that you are now de-”

“Dead? I am dead, right?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

I nod. Nothing unexpected. In fact, this is exciting. I can finally meet Baz again.

“Follow me. Lord Hades wishes to see you.”

“Alright.”

He turns away from me without another word and starts walking at a brisk pace and I hurry behind him, feeling elated. As we walk, I notice that we are in some sort of a cave and we are going downhill. The farther we walk, the brighter it gets and soon, I can even see little gemstones twinkling brightly from the walls, up from the extremely high ceiling and from even under my feet. This place is pretty in it's own ways.

The cave gives way to hallways, long and twisting and I take in everything, hungry for more. This place is wildly fascinating and not to mention, very beautiful in a dark way. I really don't mind being dead. I rather like the Underworld.

We finally stop in front of two giant wooden doors and I gape at the size of them. They're huge, taller than a cyclops and broader than any mountain. I feel like an ant standing in front of them.

Thanatos raises a bony fist and knocks thrice.

“Come in!” calls out a feminine voice, sweet and lilting.

“That's Lady Persephone.” Thanatos whispers, giving me a sideway glance. I roll my eyes. _Obviously_ it's Persephone. I have heard Hades speak before.

The doors swing open to reveal a grand hall with massive ceilings and two huge thrones at the far end, both of which are occupied.  
On one, sits Persephone, a table in front of her as she makes flower crowns and sets them on it, smiling pleasently to herself. Next to her, sits Hades, reading a manuscript, his brows furrowed in concentration. Thanatos gives me a nudge and I move towards them.

“Uncle.” I say, once I reach him, bowing my head slightly.

“Ah yes, Apollo.” Hades says, looking up and nodding at me, looking grave. “I hope you like the Underworld.”

“Yes, I do. It's beautiful.”

He looks surprised, pleased even, for a second before his face becomes expressionless again. Persephone beams at me.

“I am glad you do. Anyways, I called you here to tell you about the punishment you will serve.”

“Pu- punishment?” I stutter, feeling utterly baffled. The confusion is replaced with dismay soon. Won't I be able to meet Baz?

“Yes.” He answers calmly. “Every god did wrong to mortals, and you will have to serve for that. Don't worry, it's not much. You will just have to take birth as a mortal, go through life and experience the pain they do and return here, after which, you are free to live in Elysium.”

Take birth as a mortal? This is ridiculous. What about Baz?

Still, it's wise if I just keep my mouth shut and agree to it. I have heard a lot about some really terrible punishments. Being born as a mortal hardly counts as one.

“As you wish, uncle.”

He nods again. “You may leave now.”

I am about to turn and go when Persephone calls out, “Wait!”

Confused, I face her. What can she possibly want from me? She gives me a dazzling smile right after she shoots a look at Hades, who fidgets and then starts reading his parchment hastily again.

“Apollo, my husband forgot but I had planned something for you.” She says sweetly.

“Yes?”

She gestures towards Thanatos, who bows deeply and leaves the room. I have never felt more baffled. What has she planned for me? Another punishment? Will I actually have to walk Cerberus for the rest of my days?

A few minutes pass before Thanatos enters again and bows towards Persephone.

“I've bought-”

“Good good.” She says, cutting through him and clapping her hands. “Bring him in.”

Cerberus it is, then.

I turn warily as Thanatos leaves the room, only to re-enter a moment later.

All the breath gets knocked out of my body as I see the person who emerges from behind him.

_Baz_.

He looks exactly the same the day I had seen him for the last time. His hair, his arms, his legs, his clothes, everything, only he is not bloodied. He is even trying to smirk, though his tears are ruining the effect.

I am running towards him before I know it, my vision blurred with tears which start to fall as I finally, _finally_ envelope him in my arms after waiting for centuries.

He is just as strong and solid and soft and _so_ Baz. He smells the same, his breaths come and go out of his body the same way they used to, his hair is just as silky and he is _mine_.

I don't care that there are people watching us, all I know is that I have Baz in my arms, who is shaking with silent sobs. The person who I had loved the most, who I still love the most, is with me.

_Baz_, I say over and over again, hardly daring to believe this beautiful dream.

_Simon_, he says, and I clutch him tighter. Never. I'm _never_ letting him go.

My eyes are still brimming with tears, my face is still drenched in it, when we finally disentangle ourselves, but not completely. My hands are clutching his shoulders and he is cupping my face because we are so afraid that the other would disappear if we let go.

“I'm so sorry.” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I never wanted-”

“It's not your fault.”

“Still-”

“Oh, Apollo, I am so happy for both of you.”

We jump and turn to face Persephone who looks on the verge of crying herself. She rises from her throne, looking tall and regal and walks up to us.

“I know what separation feels like.” She whispers, giving me a soft smile. “I could only imagine your pain. I wanted you to meet him before you serve your punishment.”

“Punishment?” Baz asks, alarmed. “What punishment?”

“Apollo has to take birth as a mortal and spend a lifetime there, feel their pain and sorrows because all the gods were never fair to mortals.”

Baz's mouth hangs open and he looks dismayed before a steely determination flashes in his eyes and before I can say anything, he gets down on his knees, bowing humbly in front of Persephone and Hades.

“Lord Hades. Please, I only ask you for one thing.”

Hades looks uneasy but Persephone gives her husband a reassuring nod.

“Go on then, Hyacinthus.”

“Please allow me to go with him too. I do not want to leave him alone, ever again.”

Hades looks incredulous but before he can say anything, Persephone cuts him off.

“If that is what you wish, Prince of Sparta-”

“But how can you be sure that you will meet Apollo when you are reborn, Hyacinthus?” Hades interrupts his wife, looking a little amused now. “Earth is huge. What if you are born somewhere far, far away from him? What if you are born, destined to be enemies?”

“I know I will find him.” Baz answers in a matter of fact voice, as I gently take hold of his hand and squeeze it. “I can recognise him from anywhere. I know him. No matter where we are born, how far away or close, I will seek him out. And I can't hate him. We may be born destined to be enemies but I can only love him. Nothing will stop me.”

Persephone looks like she is going to swoon but her husband's face is still blank as he studies Baz. Then after what feels like ages, he nods.

“So be it, then, Prince Hyacinthus.”

Baz turns to me and gives me a wide smile.

* * *

* * *

**PART THREE: EPILOGUE**

_“We were lovers even before we were born in this world...”_

The tug in the pit of my stomach is so strong now, I am going to be sick. Everywhere around me, my classmates are moving and shaking hands with their roommates. I see a girl with frizzy red hair shake hands with another girl who looks a little like Tinkerbell. A tall boy is greeting a much shorter one. Everyone is meeting their roommates, except me. Where is mine? Won't I get one? Because I am an outsider? Won't the Crucible work for me?

And then I see him as he makes his way towards me, calmly. Like this magnet in the pit of his stomach isn't driving him mad.  
He is a bit taller than me and his dark hair is slicked back and he is so pale. He scowls at me when he sees me and I don't know why, but seeing dislike in his eyes for me hurts. Loads of other children at care homes have given me worse looks and I never felt bothered. I don't know why I feel so bad when he glares at me like he hates me.

Still, I an not going to feel weak. So I scowl back at him with equal ferocity.

* * *

The forest is burning and Baz is going to die if I don't do anything soon.

He is crying as he begs me to leave, tells me that this fire is not for me, that he wants to die here. Like hell I am going to leave him and let him die.

Not again, I am not going to let Baz die in my arms again.

_Again_? What the hell? It's not like has died before. I don't count his vampirism because right now, he is _alive_. He is so alive and I plan to keep it like that.

I shake my head when Baz asks me to leave again. All I know is that I have to get Baz out of here. Save him. I cannot let him die. What will I do if something happens to him? How will I cope with losing him again?

That infernal again. This hasn't happened before. I'm positive of that. I am sure Baz hasn't tried to kill himself in a burning forest before.

“This is what I deserve,” he says.

I shake my head. “Well, it isn’t what I deserve.”

“Then go.”

I see the fire flickering in his eyes, which means it must be all around us. I don't care. If I'm going to die here with him because he was too stubborn then fine. So be it.

“I won’t,” I say. “I’ve never turned my back on you. And I’m not starting now.”

“Simon...” Baz croaks out. No. Never. I'm never going to let him die.

So I kiss him.

And the moment I do, I feel this is how it should be. This is where he should be, under my thumbs and kissing me and this is where I belong, with Baz. Always with him.

* * *

“You were the sun, and I was crashing into you. I’d wake up every morning and think, ‘This will end in flames.’”

I am holding onto Baz as we dance. He looks gorgeous today, with his slicked hair and in an extremely nice suit. But I'm hardly paying attention to that. Mainly because I hardly pay attention to anything nowadays. Still, it's nice. Except for the fact that we are in an argument right now.

But my mind can't focus on the argument even because... Sun. he called me the sun.  
I have no clue why it feels so touching. Why I like it when he calls me the sun. Why I feel like he is not wrong. But... Flames. I'm a hazard. He should know. I am not who I was. I am a danger.

“I did set your forest on fire-”

“But that wasn’t the end.”

“Baz.” I say softly, my heart clenching and I can't look at him. “I can’t keep up with you. I’m a Normal.”

“Simon. You have a tail.”

“You know what I mean.” I say, getting frustrated. He knows what I mean.

“Look.” He brings our hands between us and knocks up my chin. “Look at me. I don’t want to have to say this all the time. It’s the sort of thing that’s supposed to go poetically unsaid.…” I lift my eyes to meet his. “You’re still Simon Snow. You’re still the hero of this story-”

“This isn’t a story!”

“Everything is a story. And you are the hero. You sacrificed everything for me.”

Oh. Not for him... Not exactly. I feel ashamed now as I try to find the right words.. “I didn’t do it for you, exactly-”

“Fine. For me and the rest of the magical world.”

“I was just cleaning up my own mess, Baz. Like, no one would call you a hero for cleaning up your own vomit.”

“It was brave. It was brave and selfless and clever. That’s who you are, Simon. And I’m not going to get bored with you.”

“I'm not the Chosen One,” I whisper, staring at him, still putting up my fight. Because it's true. I am not the sun anymore. I am nothing now. He must know that.

“I choose you,” He says, his arms tight around my waist, eyes soft, face defiant. “Simon Snow, I choose you.”

And I know I am never going to let him go as I give him a long hard look before I kiss him fiercely.

* * *

I am so glad I learnt to play the guitar because I love it when I'm playing it for Baz and he watches me with a silly, goofy smile. He manages to look adorable even in a silly goofy smile.

I feel so happy when he sings along the music, when he curls up close to me. When I kiss him, it feels like my lips belong there. That I would never feel like this with anyone. Because he is supposed to be mine. And I'm supposed to be his.

_I have seen the stars up close and I have seen the moon_  
_I have seen the flowers and I have seen the trees_  
_I have seen maidens, youthful, fair and lovely_  
_I have seen young men, strong and handsome_  
_The world claims them to be charming and a sight to behold_  
_But, my beloved, I laugh at their foolishness_  
_Because clearly, they haven't ever seen you._

Baz bursts into a song he must have made up some time, and I grin at him. I have no clue how he keeps coming up with new songs, he says they just pop up in his mind, like some distant memory. His songs generally sound a little old. It doesn't matter, I love them all.

He kisses me after he finishes singing, smiling against my lips, and I sigh with contentment.

As long as I have Baz, I have everything I ever need.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. I loved this fic, you know? I am sad because I am proud of the way I wrote it as well as of the plot and now I won't be able to come back to it. Anyways, I hope you guys liked this!


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